


Quixotic Meandering

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-20 15:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19994797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: When Sam finally comes home, he has a lot of changes to get used to, and some of them are bad. In the end, fate is waiting for him and some things are meant to be.





	Quixotic Meandering

"Albert Calavicci!"

Al jumped a foot at the demanding bellow, dashing around the corner and slipping into the relative safety of a storage closet. Sam rarely used that tone, yet lately Al was hearing it more and more. He didn't want to be around to find out what the latest reason was.

Sam had leaped home two months ago, after six years of leaping through time. They were once again reunited in the same place. Al should have been sticking to him like crazy glue, yet most of his time was spent running the other way. It was frustrating as hell, but Al had no wish to face the young man at the moment--or any moment soon.

After several minutes of silence, Al dared peek his head out of the door. The corridor was empty and silent, prompting him to step cautiously out, closing the door softly behind him. When no one pounced on him, he heaved a relieved sigh. He'd ditched Sam. He started down the hallway, his burden temporarily abated.

"Al!"

He nearly had a heart attack as he ran face to face with his partner upon turning the corner. "Jeez Sam--are you trying to kill me?!"

Sam's un-answer was telling. He gripped Al by the shoulders, pinning him against the wall. "I want to have a talk with you."

"Not another one," Al moaned.

"Al--why didn't you tell me?!" he demanded in a voice that was part anger, part plea.

"What _this_ time?" Al asked in resignation.

It was always the same. Every time Sam would come across some piece of information--something he'd Swiss-cheesed that Al had been forced to keep from him--he would seek Al out, angrily confronting him.

"Why didn't you tell me that I was married to Donna in another timeline?" he asked finally.

Al sighed, almost in relief. "What for? Shit, Sam, there have been so many timelines, even _I_ can't keep track of them. It never happened. It wasn't real."

Sam's shoulders slumped and he turned away. "I'm sorry, Al. I was upset. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Al reached out, squeezing one of the shoulders in sympathy. "Why don't you and me cut out for the night, and get some dinner?"

"I don't feel like going out..." Sam said, stubbornly pulling his depression around him like a cloak.

"Okay, we'll grab some steaks and have a barbecue in the backyard."

Sam turned to him, eyes starting to shine with the idea. It had been a long time since he'd had that luxury, and Al knew his attempt to sway his friend out of the melancholy mood would work.

"That sounds good," Sam agreed with a smile.

They'd already dealt with Sammy Jo, Tom, Donna...but one of these days Sam was going to ask something _really_ serious.

XXX

Al watched Sam attack his plate of food, basking in the changed atmosphere. For now at least, all was right in Beckett's world. He even talked with excitement of the Project picnic later that month--just another of the 'normal' things he was able to do again.

They were sitting in lawn chairs in Sam's back yard, plates of food on their laps. The sun had already gone down, and the lights from the house provided illumination without washing out the thousand stars in the sky above. It was peaceful, and Al sighed contentedly.

As they finished eating, Sam got up to throw out their garbage, bringing back two more cans of light beer.

Then, just when Al had finally relaxed, Sam glanced over at him with a thoughtful look. "Al," he began, "There's something else I've been meaning to ask you."

Al gave him a 'what now' look, throwing up his hands. "Let's hear it."

"I know I've been a pain, but this is only a little question," he assured. "I was just wondering...why didn't you tell me you could see _me_ and not the person I leaped into? I always thought--"

"I did tell you," Al pointed out, exasperation setting in again.

"Yeah, eventually. But I mean, I always thought you saw them...at least you seemed to. When did you start seeing the real me? Or did you always?"

"All of the above." Al continued when Sam gave him an inquiring look. "In this timeline I've always seen you, but in some of the others I saw them at first, then you later. Then there was one where I never saw you..."

Sam was staring at him in confusion. Good, Al thought. It's what he'd intended. Every time Sam started asking questions, he got nervous, afraid they'd come to close to a few things he didn't want to reveal.

"So I guess it doesn't really matter," Al concluded.

"What about when you were giving me hell as Samantha Stormer?" Sam asked with a teasing look in his eyes.

"I told you," Al insisted, "there was a timeline where--"

"I know," Sam cut him off. "You told me. So there was one timeline where you could see the real me all the long?"

Al nodded reluctantly.

"Then why did you give me such a rough time?"

Al shrugged. "Just trying to lighten things up with a little joke. Don't get pissed, I was just kidding around," Al continued, then gave up with a shrug and admitted, "Ah hell--I couldn't resist! It was too good to pass up, you in drag in all those dresses--hysterical! I was wishing I could take a picture, and--"

"Okay, Al," Sam cut him off. "I will get you for that one day. One day, when you least expect it..."

"Some people can't take a joke," Al mumbled. But then they looked at each other and both grinned.

Sam was silent for quite awhile before he spoke again. "One more question."

Al heaved a put-upon sigh. "What?"

"Now that I'm home, and you don't have to feed me all that bull...why are you still lying to me?"

Al gaped at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The leaps only have one timeline, Al, and you know it. The one they happened in. They aren't subject to time shifts."

"Oh," was all he could say.

"Al," Sam began with studied patience. "If we're going to pick up our friendship where we left off, there has to be honesty between us. You can't keep lying to protect me. It's no longer necessary."

"For Pete's sake, Sam. You can't really expect me to just sit here and list all the things that you changed."

Sam didn't answer, just waited.

Al sighed again, heavily. "There was a timeline where you got Beth back for me."

"Oh, Al..." Sam began, mortified.

Al pointed a finger at him. "Don't start. It worked out for the best, Tina and I are very happy."

"Why didn't you marry her before this?" Sam asked curiously.

"Well, it took me years to finally admit I loved her." And it had been because of Sam that he'd gotten the courage and strength to try again. "But you want to know the real reason? My best friend wasn't here to be best man."

Sam smiled warmly, but there was still a trace of guilt in his eyes. "I'm sorry for everything you had to go through," he told Al.

Al brushed it off with a wave of his hand. "You've lost plenty, too."

"Like what else?" Sam asked him quietly.

"I wasn't trying to lie to you, Sam. I knew you'd find out eventually. I just wanted to wait until you'd gotten used to being home."

"What is it?"

He hated this, being the bearer of bad news when Sam deserved only happiness. "Donna was your wife in _this_ timeline, too." He closed his eyes and gathered strength. "She died."

"How?" he breathed, stricken.

"Childbirth."

"Oh my god..." Sam whispered.

"Donna got pregnant when you were home the time we simo-leaped. She had her age against her and...they just didn't make it." Al turned his head away, feeling his own pain as well as Sam's. He'd been there, at least Sam had been spared that.

"It's my fault..." Sam moaned, tears shining in his eyes.

Al put a hand on his friend's shoulder, squeezing sympathetically. "It was her decision. The doctor told her it was risky for a women of forty-six with high blood pressure, advised against going through with the pregnancy. She told me, if anything happens, don't let Sam blame himself. She loved you very much."

"I wasn't even there for her," he said in a low voice.

"She was glad you weren't."

"I don't understand," Sam said, wiping at his tears. "How come I don't remember? When we simo-leaped I got all my memories back again."

"No you didn't. You only _thought_ you remembered everything. You didn't even ask about your brother, that's how Verbena realized you were still Swiss-cheesed. It will come back, but gradually, just like during the leaping."

Sam buried his head in his hands, silently grieving. Al let him be, giving him space to be alone with his pain but staying near.

After a long while, Sam looked up at the night sky, staring at the stars. "I haven't really accomplished anything here," he began almost wistfully. "It's like this place isn't my home anymore."

"I'm still here," Al said, hoping to lighten Sam's burden.

Sam smiled at him. "My work's not done yet," he said quietly.

"I know," Al answered calmly. At the inquiring look, he continued. "I saw the projections you ran with Ziggy. The ones that said you were here on some kind of vacation."

"I'll be home again," Sam assured, grabbing Al's hand in the space between their lawn chairs.

"Every time you come home for 'vacation', we'll have a barbecue like this, just the two of us."

"And while I'm leaping, I won't be alone. I'll have my Sancho by my side."

"Until every damned one of those windmills has been plundered," Al promised, raising their joined hands in a sign of victory.

**the end**

7/13/93


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